Johan understood what made Hollowood not only a maximum security prison, but also the most famous maximum security prison in the country.
Hollowood was a prison famous for having the lowest rate of escapes and rebellions in the entire country's prison system, and the explanation was quite simple, really.
Whoever had invested in the dark stone structure inside which Johan now found himself had gone to great lengths to make it an inescapable place.
But it wasn't just the fact that after the gate Johan had to pass through with his new fellow inmates to begin his journey to his cell.
No.
The guards there didn't carry a single firearm.
And their eyes...
Johan couldn't feel a chill as he looked into the eyes of those guards.
Because his whole body was seized by a bone-chilling cold.
The gleam in those guards' eyes was not the same as that of the criminals accompanying Johan. It didn't even resemble Erick's.
However, those guards carried a murderous, calculating, destructive calm in their eyes.
The most that Johan could see in the guards' belts was a cudgel or a stun baton.
And yet Johan knew right then and there that if he were unlucky enough to get into a direct physical confrontation with those guys, he would most likely be dead in much less time than if he simply let himself be beaten by Mason.
One of the guards, a man who looked to be in his thirties, with very short hair with a few white strands, reddish brown eyes, and a little thinner than Johan imagined a guard - even more so one in a prison as threatening as this one - should be, looked at each of the new inmates, and his gaze seemed to linger on Johan a little longer than on the others, until he sniffed and said.
"Gentlemen! Welcome to our humble citadel, Hollowood. My name is Chris Allen, but you can call me Mr. Allen, and from the moment you entered the first wall, you ceased to exist for the world. From now on, you are citizens of Hollowood, and as such, you must follow the rules of conduct that I will dictate here. First of all, the lights will be turned off every night at..."
Johan's jaw dropped as he listened to the guard's words.
There was nothing out of the ordinary there - or the ordinary that was to be expected inside a maximum security prison - but what shocked Johan most was the fact that the man didn't make a single threat against the new inmates.
There wasn't a drop of aggression or thirst for violence in his voice.
'Maybe this guy doesn't need to sound threatening...' Johan thought to himself, without taking his eyes off him.
Meanwhile, the guard continued to dictate the rules of conduct for a few more minutes, and Johan kept each one of them in his mind, feeling the sensation that remembering those rules could save his life one day.
Until Mr. Allen said something that made Johan feel both perplexed and very, very uneasy.
"... And lastly, understand that we are a peaceful community, so any and all raids you have on each other can and should be settled with your fists."
Johan's jaw dropped as he heard those words.
'But then-'
His thoughts were interrupted when the hand of one of the inmates was raised high in the air, and with an almost reverent tone of voice - either that guy had been there before, or the supposedly friendly but absolutely threatening stance of the guard hadn't just struck Johan - he asked.
"But then... Why aren't there people fighting on all sides here, Mr. Allen?"
With a PR smile, the guard began to answer, and the temperature in the strangely too spacious corridor seemed to drop another few degrees for Johan.
"Very interesting question, Frederick, The Butcher." Johan couldn't see Frederick The Butcher's face, but he was sure the guy's eyes had widened at the mention of his name. "Each and every one of you will see and understand that here, we are a close-knit family that values peace above all else. And precisely because of that, all your inmates know that it's not just because of some small difference between inmates that someone will cross fists with an equal." Allen paused before finishing.
And when he finished his explanation, his brown eyes looked straight at Johan.
"Here, honor is worth more than any coin, bullet, or status you may have had outside this labyrinth."
Johan felt a deadly shiver run down his spine.
He didn't know why Allen had talked about honor, because Johan valued his own honor very highly.
His word was worth more than anything on the streets.
But he was no longer Johan Reed there, between the walls of that gargantuan stone cube.
He was Erick Vaughn, and for that very reason, he knew very well that at least the last part of Allen's speech referred to himself.
'If honor is worth that much here, then I shouldn't have as many problems as I imagined, but still... I'd better watch out for those guards.
'Now, if you'd be so kind, please go through this gate, to the first session of the labyrinth. There, Mr. Lauritz will assign you to your respective circles, where you'll find your cells and be able to socialize with your cell brothers.
Johan struggled not to vomit.
Everything in that guard's words made Johan feel extremely confused, but something in them also made him feel as if he was stepping into another, completely different world.
An unknown world, much darker and more painful than he had ever dared to dream.
Not even in his wildest nightmares.
With this sensation wrapping around his heart like fingers of ice, Johan started walking towards the barred gate that separated the outermost part of the prison from what Allen had called the first section of the labyrinth.
There, Johan saw hell for the first time.